The Man Behind The Shades
by Spice of Life
Summary: The reason behind Otto's sunglasses.


I got this idea earlier today when I was wearing my sister's sunglasses that I stole from her room. It was a rather retarded reason that I came up with this fic--but-- Oh well. :) This is a one-shot fic, unlike all my others. So, it'll only be one chapter long. I REALLY hope no one's come up with this idea already. I started going through all the Rocket Power fics to see if any had this idea-- but by the time I got to page 6 I had gotten bored...  
  
Geez is it hot here! Just last week it was in the 30's, and now it's almost 90 degrees outside! Darn Pennsylvania weather...you can never predict it.  
  
Why the heck is this fic about Otto? I don't even like Otto! Well-- I don't know. These fics getting my head, and taunt me so that I have to post them. So--Whatev. I'm just goin' with the flow.  
  
Disclaimer-- I don't own RP. Never have- never will. I'm-- I'm okay with that though. *Sniffles* I-I'm absolutely f-f-fi-fine with t-that...  
  
This is in Otto's P.O.V-- Enjoy :)  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I don't remember much about my mom—except that she always encouraged me to show my emotions. If I was sad, I was supposed to cry. If I was happy, I was supposed to smile.  
  
One day when I was about 2 or 3 years old, we went to a fair, and she bought me and Reggie each a cheap pair of sunglasses. She told us that if we were ever too afraid to show our feelings, if we put on the sunglasses, we would be brave enough. I never thought I would have to use the sunglasses—I was always open with my emotions. I was never sad—I never had a reason to be.  
  
By the time I was 4, I learned that I couldn't see my mom at home anymore; I had to go to the hospital to see her. I never understood until I was older that she had to go there because she had cancer. Raymundo used to tell me that she was sick, and she was going to get better in a few days. Reggie was only 5 then, but she seemed to understand a lot better than I did. She was sad a lot, and didn't talk much when we went to visit mom.  
  
Whenever we'd go into mom's room, I'd look at all the machinery attached to her. She looked a lot older than she had before she came to the hospital, and she'd always wear bright colored scarves on top of her head. I used to wonder where all of her long brown hair went; now I know. She'd always be lying in a hospital bed, and there'd be chairs around her where we'd sit. Her TV would always be turned on to some soap opera; the volume turned down so low you couldn't make out what they were saying. Mom always held my hand and told me that she loved me. A little while later we'd leave the room, and then we'd go home and sit around watching TV the rest of the day.  
  
A few days after I turned 5, Dad drove us out to the hospital. We had to go up the elevator like we usually did. But when we stepped out of the elevator, we went a different way.  
  
"Where are we going?" I remember Reggie asking. Dad tried to say something, but it came out sounding cracked, like his voice was breaking.  
  
"Mom just got her room changed." He replied finally, leading us into a room with the walls painted crisp white. Mom was lying in a bed, no longer attached to any machines. She looked much younger and prettier, and smiled at us all. Reggie and I ran over to hug her, and I watched Dad make a feeble attempt to smile back at her.  
  
"Reggie—"Mom said, taking Reggie's hand in hers. "I want you always to remember that a girl can do anything a boy can do. And you," She coughed a few times, and then smiled again, "Are going to be one of the greatest female athletes out there. Never stop trying; and most of all—make sure you always believe in yourself." She kissed her forehead, and said, "I love you."  
  
Reggie looked confused, but said, 'I love you too, mom." Next, she beckoned for me. I got up from my chair, and went over to her. She had never acted like this before, and I wondered what was going on. She took my hand like she had Reggie's and cleared her throat, "Otto, you're going to be one of the greatest." I didn't know what she was talking about, but I nodded anyways, "And you always have to remember to show your feelings; big boys can cry. Don't let anyone tell you they can't." She must have noticed the confused look on my face, because she sighed and said, "You'll understand all of this when you get older; it will all make sense in time. Just keep your head high and keep going strong. You and Reggie both." She said, nodding her head to address Reggie as well. "I love you." She repeated as she had with Reggie, and kissed my cheek.  
  
Raymundo and Reggie came over, and I noticed that Dad was crying. I had never heard him cry before.  
  
"I love you all." She said, and erupted into a fit of coughing. I was scared, and I didn't know what was happening. A few moments later, she stopped coughing, but she was still breathing heavily. She smiled at us again, and started to sing a song that she had sung to us when we were younger.  
  
"My darlings, my dears  
  
Don't dare shed a tear  
  
Wherever I go I'll return  
  
I'll always be a part  
  
Of your heart  
  
Through thick and thin I'll see you through  
  
I will always love you  
  
My angels, my dears"  
  
And then she stopped—The last note she sang hung in the air; and 6 years later I can still hear it perfectly in my mind.  
  
A few days later a lot of people came over to his house, bringing presents and food. I didn't understand why we hadn't visited mom, and why all these people were coming into our house and hugging us. Twister and his family came over, and so did Tito. Dad and Tito went off to talk for awhile, so Twister came over to us, and sheepishly handed us a card he had made. He had drawn a rather good angel on the front of it, Lars had written a message on the inside of it that said, "May she remain in your hearts and minds.", and he and Twister had both signed it. Lars' name was eligible, while Twister's was a mess of scribbles. Lars mumbled something, and walked away.  
  
Twister smiled phonily and looked at us and said a line he had obviously rehearsed quite a few times, "We are very sorry in your loss, and we hope you can make it through your times of troubles as a family. We—"he paused for a moment," Something-something-something." He smiled again and said, "Mom told me I had to say that. I think I got it right. I forgot some of it though."  
  
"That's okay." Reggie told him, being squeezed by somebody hugging her. The whole day went by like that; somebody who we didn't even know would come by, hug us, and tell us that we'd make it through this. I still didn't understand what was going on though—we hadn't lost anybody.  
  
I tried to ask Reggie what was going on, but she just shrugged it off, and told me that nothing was wrong. I knew that she was hiding something though—and I figured I'd find out soon enough.  
  
That night after everybody had left, Dad told Reggie and me that it was time for bed. He went up into my room with me, and brought a chair over to my bed. He took a deep sigh, but didn't say anything.  
  
"Dad, when's mom coming home?" I asked him, not waiting for him to speak.  
  
"Well—"he started, and then stopped to mop away a few invisible tears from his face, "There's something I have to tell you Otto. You might not understand this, but—your mom she's—she's not coming back."  
  
"Never?" I asked, suddenly feeling very alone. I may have been 5 years old at the time, but I got the meaning of what he was saying. I didn't understand the full of extent of her never coming back though 'til later in my life. I couldn't wish her back or go back in time. She was never coming back, and that was the end of it.  
  
That night I cried so hard that I finally fell asleep, and had horrible nightmares of everyone dying. I woke up screaming and crying, hoping that the whole thing had been a nightmare, my mom dying, and everything else. I cried again after realizing that it had all really happened—after that, I vowed I'd never cry again. Crying would never bring my mom back to me.  
  
I tried my hardest not to cry every time I thought of her—amidst her words that it was okay to cry. I figured that if I was going to cry, I didn't want anyone to see my doing it. I remembered my mom's words about the sunglasses that she had bought me, and I realized that Reggie wore hers on her head all the time. One day I put mine on; and I decided that I would wear them all the time, that way nobody could ever see me cry.  
  
So, here I am, 6 years later. I still wear those sunglasses everyday, and Reggie still has hers with her everywhere she goes.  
  
Twister asked me one day why I wore them all the time. I didn't want to explain it to him, so I just asked him why he wore his hat all the time. He smiled, so I guess he understood that it was just something some people did. Me and Reggie still have that card he gave us that day when everyone came over, after the funeral which me and Reggie didn't go to. Twister probably doesn't even remember that day when he gave us it but I do. I read it every day; and I know that it's true. She's always in my heart and mind.  
  
Every morning I think about her and I cry; and nobody notices because my sunglasses hide the tears. I think Reggie and Ray do the same thing; cry every morning. Sometimes I see Reggie go into her room, wearing her sunglasses. I don't ask her why; I already know.  
  
A couple people besides Twister have asked me about my shades. I just tell them they're to keep the sun out of my eyes.  
  
There's more to them than protection from the sun; they really just protect me from myself.  
  
__________________  
  
A/N—Wow, that...kinda' made me sad. I didn't really anticipate this to be 4 pages long, lol, but, the more the merrier! The song that I wrote in there is actually just a poem I came up with on the spot, called, "My angel, my only." I hope you all enjoyed it—Remember to review! 


End file.
